


Collared

by Crimson_Passions



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: BDSM, Branding, Collars, Ishbal | Ishval, Ishval Civil War, M/M, PWP, Roy has an atonement kink, Somehow it works out, Violent Sex, kimblee is just a sadist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 17:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson_Passions/pseuds/Crimson_Passions
Summary: Roy Mustang carries demons with him daily. When they grow too heavy, there is one man he turns to to bleed them away.But this time, Zolf J. Kimblee has a new game to play.And Roy never realised just how much he wants to play.





	Collared

**Author's Note:**

> This is incredibly self indulgent, but I'm learning slowly not to care. Written for a friends birthday at their request.
> 
> Apparently my kink is Roy suffering.
> 
> Please, read and enjoy.

Desert nights were always cool, darkness soothing the land, breezes a break from the relentless sun. But Roy Mustang still felt Ishval’s searing heat, a sharp burn that branded his heart. He is a soldier, a sinner, and perhaps most of all, a man. He stalks through the burned out city, blinded by alchemic smoke, weighted down by the burden of death.

He is a sinner, and he must atone.

There is one man who can bring relief, who can blow the smoke away and make Roy feel human.

Major Zolf J. Kimblee, the Crimson Alchemist is waiting for him.

And Zolf J. Kimblee is perhaps crueler than Roy’s conscious could ever be.

Roy marches on undeterred, finding the premarked house. It’s not the the first time they have met here, but there is something in the air tonight, something that feels different. Something is stirring with in Roy, some new desire, a need that he cannot name. Idly, he wonders if Kimblee too feels the shift in whatever this is. He doesn’t stop to ponder the matter. He’s given himself a duty, and it’s time to report.

“So, you finally show up huh?”

Kimblee’s voice is colder than the night air, and it sends shivers down Roy's spine. It’s liquid, languid, bold and unassuming but piercing all the same, and Roy wants to drown in it.

“Of course, just like we arranged.”

“I was starting to think you’d forgotten.”

Roy looked down, sighing. “You know why I’m here. Don’t taunt me.”

“Then shut your mouth and get over here.”

Roy hesitated for the slightest moment before complying. Kimblee held a certain presence, something irresistible, more alluring even than the power that alchemy opened up.

Alchemy was knowable, conquerable. But Kimblee? Roy could spend a lifetime examining Kimblee and still not come close to understanding the whys and hows of him. And right now, he didn’t particularly care, as Kimblee’s lips met his in a blaze of teeth and tongue and something akin to passion but more like pain. Roy groaned under the touch, letting Kimblee push and prod, letting him become the commander.

Roy could be a good soldier. It was one thing he knew for certain.

He could live with just the bruising kisses, but Kimblee had never been patient, or one to take things halfway. It was only a few minutes before he was being shoved aside, pushed to the ground.

“Take off the coat. Shirt too. You don't need them.”

Roy shivered, but didn't hesitate now, fingers trembling as he undid his jacket, then his shirt, setting them aside. He kept his head lowered, knowing Kimblee was still watching, still waiting.

“Such pretty unmarked skin… it would be such a delight to cut it open… watch you bleed…”

“K-kimblee…”

“Oh you know you’d enjoy it. It would be such a lovely show. But I've got other plans for you today.”

Roy nodded, still unwilling to meet the predator’s eyes, still afraid of what he'd see reflected in them.

“Come here Roy… I've got something special for you.”

Roy wavered. He was already on his knees, vulnerable. Kimblee loomed, presence filling the small abandoned room.

“Come on, don't you want your present?”

“I was under the impression that your attention was present enough.”

“Well consider today special. Or have you changed your mind about this, Roy Boy?” His smirk cut like a knife, and Roy growled. All the same… he wasn't one to leave things half-finished. Taking a deep breath, he crawled forward. He was too committed to give into a little threat.

“What a good little dog… following orders so well…”

Roy flinched as a hand came for him, only to relax as it ruffled his hair, a rare show of affection. It would be pointless to speak.

“Now a good pup like you needs a proper claim. I can't have you wandering around alone, now can I?”

Again Roy tensed as Kimblee withdrew his other hand from his pocket revealing… no, it couldn't be. He went pale, trying to hold his composure.

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Kimblee…” he couldn't take his eyes off of the simple strip of leather.

“You wanted to submit like the dog you are. Good dogs wear collars.” His voice was smooth, entrancing. He couldn't do anything, couldn't hope to fight its alluring power.

So Roy bowed his head, and let Kimblee secure collar, cool leather pressing into his throat just too tightly to be comfortable. Kimblee smiled as he stepped back, admiring it.

“You should dress like this more often.”

“And give anyone else the pleasure?”

“Mm, so you’re loyal too. But what else should I expect from a good dog?”

“Just get it done,” Roy growled. Already he felt slightly lightheaded, blood long ago having rushed below his belt, the constriction of his airways only making it worse. Or was it better?

“Fine… if you so wish.”

Roy didn't have time to brace himself before Kimblee was grasping his hair, pulling hard as he tugged him forward. He yelped, and pulled back on instinct, trying to escape. It did nothing but increase the pain. Kimblee’s grip was unrelenting, even as he unfasted the uniform pants and freed his cock. As soon as it was, Roy was forced forward, mouth meeting it, expectations clear. He parted his lips, and any protest or complaint he may have had, any comment at all was swallowed. Kimblee didn’t release him, didn’t give up, instead becoming more fierce as he assaulted Roy’s mouth. There was no such thing as gentle here, not anymore.

Roy had always known that, and yet, he had come anyways, seeking it like moths sought flames, craving it, not caring if he got burnt. What was this pain compared to the pain he himself wrought? Whatever it was, Roy was collared now, truly a dog, not a man. Perhaps it was fitting. Something told him Kimblee wouldn’t let him forget it easily.

He had to fight his instinct to gag as Kimblee pressed his cock into his throat, had to fight against the urge to choke and splutter. It didn’t take long to acustom himself to the salty musk of it, to grow into a rhythm as Kimblee fucked him, yelps becoming something else as he found he almost… He closed his eyes tightly. No, there was no almost. He  _ liked _ it. And he wanted more.

Grunting, moaning around it, he pushed himself forward, desperate to accept it, accept the choking, the pain, the tears that now spilled down his face. If this was what he was to be, then he should embrace it.

Except then Kimblee was dragging him away, dropping him on the hard ground, leaving him gasping and near crying.

“Wh-what did I do?”

Kimblee merely scowled. “Strip.”

Roy froze, the order not quite processing.

“Don’t make me repeat myself Mustang.”

He blinked, quaking under Kimblee’s icy glare. The man was stroking himself languidly, hand shining already with what had to be some kind of lube. Roy could try to puzzle out the whys and hows and what he’d somehow missed, but in the moment, it didn’t matter half as much as the burning ache he felt, the desire and need that had brought him so far. Kimblee had given an order, and a good dog would obey.

As quickly as possible he shed his pants and the constricting boxers, letting his own embarrassingly hard cock stand free. He shivered slightly, Kimblee’s glare more penetrating than ever. Whatever he wanted, Roy knew it wouldn't be kind. Kimblee was not a man to pull punches or mince words. Kimblee liked to see others in pain. And Roy had made himself a willing victim.

Again he yelped as he was seized, pushed and pulled until he was in a more proper position, nails biting cruelly into his flesh, the little pricks of pain making him gasp.

“You’re such a good little bitch…. It’s time we made proper use of you.”

Before he could react, a slick finger was being thrust into him, no time for teasing, no warning.

“H-hey!”

“Don’t you dare say anything, bitch. You’re here for me, and me alone.”

Kimblee thrust it roughly, and after a few moments hummed. Roy closed his eyes, bracing himself. Kimblee only hummed when he was at his cruelest. It still wasn’t enough. Kimblee pulled the finger away, leaving Roy empty, gasping. It only lasted for a moment. Kimblee never wasted time, and then Roy was screaming as the cock pushed into him, heavy and hard, deeply and fully. He shuddered, hands clutching at air as it stretched and burned, Kimblee didn’t wait for him to adjust before he started to thrust, action just as erratic as the man himself, filling Roy, sensation driving right to his own aching cock.

“Just like that… You love to serve, don’t you?”

“I-I don’t deserve power.”

“So self sacrificing.” he chuckled, and Roy flinched. What had he unleashed?

He didn’t need to wait long to find out. Kimblee’s hands were dextrous and warm, instruments of destruction as they scratched across his skin, leaving bright red trails in their wake. There was no blood, not this time. Roy groaned, pressing back against him, even as Kimblee pulled him close.

“It’s ever so noble of you, bitch. You really bought their propaganda, huh?” Kimblee’s breath was hot against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. And the it was gone, and Roy screamed again as he felt teeth sink into the flesh of his neck, feral and harsh. Kimblee didn’t let go, sucking and thrusting, making sure that the bite would leave a mark. The second he released, Roy moaned, body trembling, adrenaline racing.

“M-more sir.”

Kimblee said nothing, but needed no encouraging, again and again biting, every time leaving a mark, leaving Roy scrambling and weak. His hands didn’t stop either, and Roy could only hope no one would ask him questions if they so happened to see. He couldn’t admit it, would never dare to. This was his little secret.

Every thrust pushed him closer to some invisible edge, every tight breath halted by the choking collar, reminding him of his place. He was used, a nothing, a submissive little bitch, who once had had delusions of grandeur.

It was easier to be a toy.

It didn’t take much longer for Kimblee himself to start grunting, tensing, palms hot against Roy’s skin. He was close.

“S-sir… sir…. Use me please… t-take it….”

“Oh gladly. I’m so happy to see you’ve finally accepted it.”

There was a pause, and a spike of fear coursed through Roy. He found himself shoved face down into the ground again, felt Kimblee’s hands pull away from him, then press into his back.

He didn’t register the new pain at first.

And then it as all he could focus on, the burning sear of alchemy unmistakeable. Again, he screamed, hoping desperately that no one would hear. In the background, faintly, he heard Kimblee moaning, a sweet music as he came inside Roy, taking his pleasure. And then he was gone.

As quickly as it had began, it was over. Kimblee was fixing his pants, readjusting his hair, leaving Roy shaking on the floor, cock still hard and leaking precum, shuddering and shaking and almost writhing in ecstasy and pain.

“Next time, you won’t forget your place so easily.”

“S-sir…. Wh-what about…?”

“Oh don’t tell me, you’re worried about  _ that _ .” Kimblee nudged his erection with his boot, and Roy moaned, spasming.

“P-p-please, I… I need….”

“Then do it yourself. Bitches don’t need to orgasm on my watch.”

Before he could say anything else Kimblee was at the door.

“And don’t wait so long to come back. I’ve got needs, you know.”

Roy whimpered, then sobbed, too weak to move, limbs aching, back still burning with the brand. He was marked, and collared, and used, and abused.

And he was already waiting for the next opportunity to kneel.

He was a good bitch.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments? Questions? Just want to say Hi? Let me know down below!


End file.
